


Haymitch's Turn

by TheWalkingGrimes



Series: Tales of District Four [12]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: 70th Hunger Games, Ableist Language, Gen, Implied Sex Trafficking, Introspection, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:41:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27612928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWalkingGrimes/pseuds/TheWalkingGrimes
Summary: Haymitch, in the wake of the 70th Hunger Games and trying very hard not to care about other people (and failing miserably).
Relationships: Annie Cresta/Finnick Odair (implied), Haymitch Abernathy & Finnick Odair, Haymitch Abernathy & Katniss Everdeen (minor), Mags & Haymitch Abernathy
Series: Tales of District Four [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018845
Kudos: 66





	Haymitch's Turn

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is something a little different that I'm doing. It's a series of snippets, mostly random as they occur to me, that either center around or are tangentially related to Finnick and Annie, or District 4 in general. I'm going to try to keep them all in the same verse, but some details might not line up.

Normally, Haymitch is on the first train that he’s allowed on out of the Capitol after the Games. They’ll typically trot him out for a post-Game interview that will end up on the cutting room floor of the highlight reel, and then send him packing immediately. As much as the last thing he wants to do is go home and face the pained eyes of yet another parent that he’s failed, staying in the Capitol to watch everyone celebrate the christening of a new victor is far, far worse.

However the ending of the 70th Hunger Games has been such a confusing shit show that Haymitch has stuck around for a bit. He’s not sure if he’s concerned or just morbidly curious to see how it will turn out - probably a mixture of both. 

In all his years of being a mentor, nothing like this has happened before. Not just an underdog victor, but a _fluke._ According to the rumors buzzing around the Capitol, Annie Cresta should not have survived. The earthquake that broke the dam and caused a massive flood was a mistake on the Gamemakers' part.

It isn't _fair,_ they say.

And maybe they wouldn’t be so distraught over it if they’d been able to patch Annie up quickly, slap a fake smile on the poor girl’s face, and weave the typical underdog story. A hopeful narrative for the Capitol to eat up and the Districts to remember when they sent their children off the next year. 

But it had been over a month and Annie hadn’t been seen by the public yet. She’s been stashed away in some Capitol mental hospital somewhere, where they were running all sorts of procedures and treatments on her that most likely were going to further traumatize her in the long run. Reruns were going of the Games, mostly ignoring the disappointing ending, and the Capitol citizens were antsy.

“This might be the most boring Games I’ve _ever_ witnessed,” A man in a strange gold and green striped suit sniffs near Haymitch at the bar. Cashmere is entertaining him for the moment, her fingers twisting lazily over a diamond bracelet - possibly a token of _admiration_ from the gold and green man. “What a waste. A whole field of talented tributes, and that pitiful girl wins.”

It certainly is a boring story. At least, the official one is.

The real story is far more fascinating.

The _real_ story is one of manipulation and treason and the type of reckless idiocy that only a teenage boy could be capable of.

Especially when a pretty girl is involved - even if said pretty girl did try to rip her own face off with her fingernails at one particularly bad point after her mind betrayed her.

“What a fucking idiot.” Chaff mutters into his drink after the man walks away. Haymitch is fairly certain he’s not talking about Cashmere’s date, but they can’t discuss it openly.

They can’t talk about it, but they all know. All the victors, and probably the Gamemakers.

And Snow of course. There’s never getting anything like this past their dear President, who will always be a Gamemaker at heart.

Haymitch would’ve told Finnick that, if he’d thought that the little idiot would’ve listened to him. But of course he wouldn’t have, because he was past the point where even Mags would have been able to get through to him. Not that she’d try - Mags has become somewhat of a soft touch in her old age, and she got stupidly attached to the girl too. 

One of the most annoying things about being a victor is that Haymitch is forced to see and talk to victors from other districts every year, some of whom have killed those kids whose parents’ accusational eyes Haymitch has to look into when he returns home. And unlike the people in Twelve, the victors _do_ actually talk to him and joke with him and accept him in their own way. 

Which makes Haymitch, somehow, care about what happens to them.

So he cares that he’s barely seen Mags since Annie Cresta was announced the winner - and when he has seen her she looks like she’s aged twenty years even though she can’t tell him anything other than _Annie’s doing her best to get better_ \- and he cares that he hasn’t seen Finnick at all except on a couple tv interviews, where he looks faker and shinier than ever. 

Word has it that he’s been _getting around_ even more than usual though which… Haymitch downs the rest of his drink and tries not to think about it. There are some things that he can’t spend too much time thinking about, although he will drag them up on particularly awful nights when he sees his dead kids’ faces flash behind his eyelids and then it’ll be some kind of a sick consolation.

Really, he shouldn't care this much. Not after Rooker, the most promising tribute Haymitch has ever had, was sentenced to death in the 65th Hunger Games when Haymitch couldn't scrounge enough money to send him even some pitiful crackers. Rooker had been trembling and exhausted when Finnick found him on the eighth day of the games, and he'd barely put up a fight against the net that entangled him as he earned the dubious honor of being the first person to ever be skewered by a trident in the Games.

(Haymitch had to watch Rooker's death play out on the giant screens of the Capitol streets for _days_ after that, and listen to the chittering of people exclaiming how it was such an exciting and unusual weapon. Rooker had three little brothers, and a baby sister, who were all expecting him to start working in the mine the next year in order to help them scrape together enough food for all of them).

But Finnick in real life turned out to be too friendly and well-meaning, so Haymitch decided not to waste the energy on hating a fourteen year old kid whose only crimes were being a little too good at what he'd been created to do (at least he didn't play with his food, like the girl from Two that year) and hoarding all the sponsorship funds with his impish smile. 

And he ended up paying for that second crime. Rooker probably wouldn't have had to.

Annie Cresta likely wouldn't either. She'd barely been a victor for over a month and the Capitol is already sick of her. So much speculation over what _next_ year would bring, how the Gamemakers would make up for this disappointing twist. In a year's time, barely anyone would remember her name.

Haymitch can't help but wonder if maybe that's the point.

To his great annoyance, when Haymitch finally stumbles away from the bar he finds that he's accidentally pressed the _Four_ on the elevator button instead of _Twelve._ During the Games this would never be allowed, but in the post-Games phase the victors pose little threat to each other. It's not like Annie's even there, at any rate.

The only person that Haymitch finds when he enters the apartment is Mags. She's curled up by the fireplace drinking a cup of tea.

It's late, and she should be asleep. Haymitch notices her hands are shaking as she sips, but she looks at him steadily.

"Haymitch."

"Mags." There's something about her that pierces his armor of shamelessness - he's almost embarrassed to be drunk in her presence. She's been mentoring longer than he's been alive and even if District 4's odds are infinitely better than 12's, she's sent far more kids to their grave than Haymitch. 

_I'll probably catch up soon though,_ Haymitch thinks cynically and takes a seat on the sofa. "How's the girl?"

Mags's smile is tight. She never gives away anything unless she wants to, so Haymitch knows he's meant to read her unease. "The Capitol doctors are doing everything they know how to do in order to make sure she can perform." 

"I'm sure they are. What about the boy?"

"He's doing everything he can too."

"He staying here?"

"Not since the end of the Games." Mags says lowly, and it's probably fine that she's telling him this, but Haymitch doesn't blame her for being wary. The ice they're all walking on is thin and cracking. "He's been busy, I haven't seen him."

Her voice is steady but her eyes are heartbroken. Haymitch wonders how she has the energy to keep doing this, keep coming here and watching the Capitol tear her kids apart - both in the Games and after them.

" 'S worth it?" He asks, brain muddled with his heavy thoughts and the alcohol blanket starting to settle in a bit more. 

"What?" 

"Is it worth it?" He articulates, probably over-enunciating to make up for the numbness in his lips. "Bringing 'em home."

It's not a question he's ever been able to bear to ask. Not like he _tries_ to get his kids killed in the arena, nah the Gamemakers and Career tributes do that just fine without his help. But maybe he rests a little easier at night with thoughts of _a_ _t least they’ll never have to be a victor._

Mags sets her teacup down. "Of course." She tells him, and it's not for the sake of whatever nosy Capitol tech could be eavesdropping on their conversation right now. It's not for the Capitol, and it isn't for Snow. This is what she truly believes. "Every victor's life is worth it, Haymitch."

 _Even Annie Cresta's?_ He wants to ask her. _Even Finnick's?_

_Even mine?_

"You'll understand one day." Mags nods at him. "When it's your turn, you'll understand."

* * *

The kids this year are good, better than Haymitch has ever seen. He has hope for them, and has made promises to help them that he hasn't made in over ten years.

 _This one is going to hurt,_ he thinks, as Peeta Mellark talks about how the Gamemakers ignored him while he was showing off his strength. 

"And you sweetheart?" Haymitch asks.

A flash of furious grey eyes.

Katniss Everdeen _hates_ being called sweetheart.

"I shot an arrow at the Gamemakers."

"You _what?!"_ Effie screeches.

Haymitch picks up a roll, and lets their voices wash over them, trying to suppress a pleased smile. 

_Well shit. Maybe it's my turn now._

**Author's Note:**

> This is set before Mags had her stroke.


End file.
